


Prayers of the Young

by Catharctic



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Bullying, Dark, Explicit Language, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Homelessness, Implied Transphobia, War, also loosely based on the pathcode teasers and that one vcr, look this has tons of dark themes but they all end happily okay, reference to terminal illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 08:25:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9313421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catharctic/pseuds/Catharctic
Summary: There are children suffering.It matters not where you live in the world, the young will always fall victim to one tragedy or another. Life on Earth is cruel and sometimes unforgiving.But the suffering can never last.>> EXO AU in which they use their superpowers and help children struggling to cope in various situations. Some are much darker than others, but all of them have a happy ending! <





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the first EXO fic I'll be publishing here - I hope it's ok !! 
> 
> I understand this is a bit of an unusual theme to go with, but I wanted to start off with something not strictly focused on one member/pairing, and something that ended on a positive note, just so if any readers have happened to have unfortunately experienced any of these circumstances, they can be aware that good things can always occur after and life will get better <3
> 
> I'm in no way experienced in writing these sort of themes, though, so I apologise in advance if anything sounds weird, or if the EXO members could have dealt with a situation better than what I described. 
> 
> And finally, thank you for reading!

A child is crying.

Tears run heavy down his face. He can only lift a tiny hand to his cheek and make a weak attempt to wipe the dampness away. But it’s no use - more tears come, and it seems as though they won’t be stopping any time soon.

The weather is changing overhead. Fluffy clouds paint the sky a murky grey, but there’s no hint that there will be a storm - they only promise the arrival of rain. They boy isn’t sure how to feel about it - he can’t really feel any emotion that isn’t despair right now. He doesn’t even worry about getting soaked when the downpour does inevitably arrive.

What the child does not expect is to see is the silhouette of a man approaching him, his walk slow and powerful, but somehow soothing and comforting to watch. He tenses, a little nervous, but cannot find it in himself to feel afraid as the figure smiles warmly at him. If anything, he's _curious_.

Sniffling, he watches the man stop and stand before him, towering high above his position on the dry grass below. The child feels vulnerable and humiliated, curled in on himself with tear-stained cheeks, and all he can do is stare at the stranger.

Said stranger doesn’t seem to mind much, and continues to smile as he lowers himself down to the boy’s height, ruffling his hair playfully, affectionately. “Never be afraid to cry.” He says softly, letting his hand drop to the child’s shoulder as he sits beside him on the grass. His eyes close shortly after, head tilting back to face the sky, and the youth has to wonder why.

It’s only when the first drops of rain behind to hit his head and the cracked dirt around them, that he realises the mysterious man had _known_ the rain was coming in that very moment. He stares across at him, awed, and gradually lifts his hands away from their position hugging his knees to let the cool water drop into his palms.

The rain continues falling, and the child feels droplets splash across his cheeks, clearing away the tears and soothing his reddened eyes. His hair is soon plastered to his forehead, his clothes drenched, but he doesn’t mind at all, and neither does the man beside him, who has since held out his own hands out to catch the rain. The boy smiles, and it soon turns into a laugh as he sits there, allowing the sound of the rain to calm his nerves and mind, the petrichor to fill his lungs, and the stranger to keep him company.

He turns his head to watch the man at his side again, to see if he was also looking back at him, only to blink in shock when he was not there sitting beside him as he was just moments before. He stands on his feet, frantically scanning the landscape for the figure, only to frown when all he’s met with are the trees and fields. The rain is still falling, though, and soon enough the boy forgets the disappointment he feels knowing his newly found friend has disappeared, instead laughing again as he splashes about in newly formed puddles that have saturated earth that was previously dry and crumbled. His fears and worries have been left long behind.

Suho watches him from the cover of a pine, and smiles one last time before fading into the trees of the forest nearby.

  
##

  
A child is alone.

The night is cold and unforgiving, and she whimpers softly as she pulls her coat tighter across her chest. Her mother will come and collect her eventually, but the weather has turned ever so bitter and she’s not so sure that it’ll be very soon. She stands alone in the empty park, shivering and lonely, because she doesn’t know what else she _can_ do. Home seems a far off land and she doesn’t know how to get there.

She’s feeling numb, and wonders if she should run off to find someone to help her, but mother always warned her about talking to strangers. She couldn’t trust anyone to support her and would have to rely on the hope that mother would return from her errand and pick her up before the weather got any worse. She could see her breath now, billowing out into the air, and she watched it for a moment before a flicker of something bright far ahead catches her attention.

“Ma?” She calls out softly, only to take a step back as another orange flicker emerges from the trees a short distance away from her. It’s fire. She realises that now, but it’s not a regular fire. It’s not setting the nearby trees alight, even as it flickers brightly through the branches.

She’s standing a few meters away from it at the very least, but she can already feel the warmth. It’s ever so comforting. It’s hard to explain, but it almost feels... Safe. The girl dares to take a step closer this time, her hands reaching out to feel the pleasant heat spread across her palms and up to her fingertips. It’s a welcome change from the biting cold that had already settled in the park.

Suddenly, it’s not just the fire that is greeting her warmly; a tall figure steps out slowly from the trees. His movements are careful and gentle, his face bright, with a playful glint in his eyes. His hair is a shade of red so loud that the girl could have easily mistaken it for more fire.

But he is a stranger all the same, and the girl steps back warily. What’s more distracting, however, is the fact that the fire is there, sitting in his palm, burning away but leaving him completely unharmed. She blinks, mouth falling agape, which makes the man chuckled light-heartedly.

He kneels down to her height, ignorant to the mud beneath him, but does not approach the girl any further. Instead, he tilts his palm towards her, letting the flame flicker hypnotically in his hand. She watches keenly from her safe distance, but grows curious of this peculiar man, and watches him through wide, inquisitive eyes, loneliness from before long forgotten.

“How do you _do_ that?”

He smiles. “Magic.”

The child lets out a long ‘ _whoa_!’ and he can’t help but chuckle again. He swaps the fire into the opposite hand, playfully swirling his fingers across the licking flames. He watches her gently, and realises again that she is alone. “Where is your mother?”

“She’s working.” She says quietly, her eyes not once moving away from the glare of the small blaze. “She works late. No one else can take care of me when she works, so I have to wait outside for her.” The conversation sounds nonchalant to the little girl, but the man frowns a little hearing this.

“Don’t you get cold? Or scared? It isn’t safe for you to be outside alone.”

“Me and Ma are outside a lot.” She replies. “We don’t have one house, we move around a lot. And I have a coat, so it’s okay.”

The adult winces as realisation settles in, staring across at the homeless girl, who’s still drawn to the fire in his hand. Her eyes are bright, innocent, curious. She deserves to live better than this. He’s certain her mother does, too.

“Let’s play a game.” He decides after a few moments, closing his fist around the flames and putting both hands behind his back, slyly moving his left hand into the back pocket of his jeans. The girl is watching him keenly, interested in the proposal. He smiles at her, and pretends to shuffle something around in his hands behind his back. “Tell me which hand the fire is in, and I’ll give you a present for you to share with your mother.”

Her eyes light up a little further, and without hesitation, points to his right. “It’s that one!” She says in a matter-of-fact voice, and the stranger brings the hand forward for her to see. Unclenching his fist, he releases the flame trapped within, and the girl laughs happily.

“You win!” He grins, and brings his other hand forward. His fingers open out to reveal all the money he has on hand at that moment, and he holds it out for her to take. He hopes it’ll be enough to get them somewhere warm to stay for at least a week, possibly more in this part of town. He only wishes he can do more.

“Now, you’ve gotta give that money to your mother, okay?” He says seriously, watching as she takes it from his hand and examines it in her own. “It’s very important you give it to her, because she can use it to get you something nice.” The child nods in understanding, and slides it carefully into her coat pocket. She’s about to say something, but the man holds up a hand before she can.

“One more thing - Tell your mother that there are _always_ people out there ready to help her. You remember that, too.”

Her newly made friend stays with her until the door of the house opposite the park where they were both sat opens up, and the girl immediately turns around with a gasp, standing up and running to greet her. “Ma, _look_! I have a surprise for you!”

Chanyeol smiles again at the girl, watches as the expression of exhaustion from her mother’s face twists into that of shock, then relief, then of tearful joy, before making his way down the gloomy path in the opposite direction.

  
##

  
A child is running.

He knows exactly where he’s going; his family needs urgent help, and he’s not about to let them down now. He could always rely on his legs in the past, and in this dire situation he’s sure he can do it again.

He’ll get there in time. He _has_ to.

He pushes through the fields that border the secluded farmhouse in which they live - they stretch out far across the horizon, grass overgrown and mud thick beneath his boots. Everything is an obstacle to him, and today his legs are heavy, shaky with fear. The prospect of failing to get aid in time... The child grits his teeth. He can’t let it get to that.

And yet, he can feel himself slowing as fatigue settles in his muscles. His head feels light and his vision clouds. He has no choice but to drop to his knees, heaving loudly as he regains his breath, all the while the thoughts of failure plaguing his mind. He wants to stand, wants to run again until he reaches the hospital, but he can’t. He’s weak and he can’t.

The boy chokes as he feels a lump in his throat, the threat of tears prominent, and as he does a strong wind begins to blow.

It’s bitterly cold, but oddly soothing. It makes the child’s skin prickle, and he finds himself shivering a little as it ghosts over his bare arms. His breathing evens out, eyes robbed of the moisture just moments away from slipping down his cheeks. He’s left shaking on the ground, tall grass tickling him as it flails helplessly in the quickening gusts. It’s tussling at his hair now, too. It’s too strong and too sudden to be a natural change in the weather, he knows that much.

He turns around to face the gale, squinting as it pushes back against him. His eyes are almost forced completely closed, but the emergence of a tall figure running towards him prevents him from shying away from the powerful winds.

Unsteady, but with a peculiar newly found energy, the boy stands. His feet are planted firmly to the ground, enough to assure him that he’s ready to run again. The man is drawing near now, and for a moment a cold shiver jolts down his spine as he ponders on what the stranger’s intentions are. But there’s _something_ he can’t explain preventing him from truly feeling worried. All that really matters is getting to the hospital and helping his family.

He runs, and this time, the man joins him.

It’s hard to see as they both move hastily across the field, but the boy identifies that the man has short blonde hair, and he is incredibly tall. Anyone would call him intimidating, he was sure, but all he feels is admiration. The stranger could have undoubtedly run much faster than he could, but he’s maintaining the pace _he_ was setting. He’s supporting him.

Meanwhile, the wind keeps on pushing, forcing them forward across the plane, flattening out the grass as they approach it. It was almost violent now, but was providing the youth with a strength he did not know he possessed. They keep running, but as the boy turns to look again at his new companion, the taller man smirks back, and speaks for the first time in a soft, low voice that still manages to find its way to his ears over the sound of the wind.

“Don’t doubt your strength or your capabilities.”

And it’s in that moment that the stranger finally decides speeds up, overtaking the boy easily and rushing on ahead, veering away from the direction of the town. He’s already fading behind the cover of the grass ahead, but the boy no longer minds; what’s important is that he’s confident he can make it in time. The town is fast approaching on the horizon, and the child keeps pushing forward, forcing himself to run for as long as he needs to, even as the wind begins to slow. He does dare to turn his head back, though, scanning the landscape for the mysterious man who brought with him an unrelenting gale, only to no avail.

Little does he know Sehun is still there, crouched in the shadow of one of the town’s buildings, watching as the boy finally reaches his destination. The smirk is still plastered across his face as he stands up and leaves.

##

  
A child is lost.

The forest is normally her favourite place. She loves skipping through the grass, picking flowers to turn into crowns and other pieces of floral jewellery. She pretends that she is a fairy, or a queen living in a fantasy world, where magic rules supreme and the woes of the real world are only a far off memory. The emerging fireflies near the pond always bring her back from her imagination and let her know when it’s time to leave, lest it gets too dark to make her way home safely.

But tonight, she’s ventured out much further than usual, and the fireflies haven’t followed.

The sky is dark and cloudy seemingly all of a sudden, and she’s already finding it difficult to manoeuvre her way back the way that she entered. Her parents are probably worried about her already - she doesn’t want them to be, but she knows them well, and knows that they hate how she rebels so often to take adventures in the forest on her own. Coming back late would only make that worse, too.

Now even she was beginning to understand why they worried so often. She studies the trees around her hastily, her breaths coming out quicker and shorter as she begins to panic. It has never occurred to her before that she was perfectly capable of getting lost out here. She starts to run.

A bad idea, of course - the trees have twisting roots that sprawl across the faint dirt pathways, eager to trip unsuspecting victims and topple them into the stinging nettles that generously pepper the forest floor.

It’s only a few minutes into running around clueless when the young girl _does_ trip. Luckily she only falls into a patch of grass, which softens the blow. Nevertheless, she’s still no closer to getting home, and the sky really is dark now; she can tell the moon is out from the pale outline of the trees above.

But what else _can_ she do? She struggles with herself for a moment, and eventually settles on sitting down in that same patch of grass to calm herself. What would her parents want her to do? Presumably call them, but she’s left her phone at home. She could try calling for help, but there won’t be anyone walking around at this hour to hear her. Walking could make her even more lost than previously, so...

She curls up, hugging her knees to her chest, squeezing her eyes shut and hoping the night passes by quickly, or that her parents come out to find her soon.

Though her eyes are closed, they gradually begin to become aware of a sudden, uncomfortable brightness from a source of light quite unknown. The child squints, surprised at the brilliance of it, and attempts to find the culprit among the dense foliage. Finally, her eyes rest upon a blurred silhouette emerging from the white light - a figure much taller than she is, gradually making their way towards her. She winces, curling in tighter on herself, the light far too bright to stare at directly. As if reading her thoughts, the light actually dims, and she dares to open her eyes again, this time truly seeing the stranger stood before her.

A man is smiling kindly down at her, and as he tilts his head in a similar fashion to a curious puppy, he shows off his teeth in a larger, more childish grin, holding out a hand.

“You must be all muddy sitting there. You’re lost, aren’t you?”

The young girl only nods in reply, but decides to accept the unvoiced help, grabbing his hand delicately and allowing him to pull her up to her feet.

The smile never leaves his face. In fact, it only grows, especially as the mysterious light returns again, bathing their surroundings in a pleasant white glow. She stares at it in awe, reminded of the fireflies back at the pond as small specks of light float upwards like dust. They don’t seem to be sentient, though. Instead, they remain close to the man standing beside her, of all things, circling him like the small fairies she often dreams about. Curiosity gets the best of her eventually, and though the stranger had already begun walking down the path, in what she could only assume was the right way home, she decided to pry into why there were lights orbiting him.

“Where is that light coming from?” She asks coyly, keeping close to her saviour and literal guiding light, making sure to note down any oddly shaped trees that she could remember passing by for future adventures. If she was still allowed to take them after this incident, that is.

Her guide hums gently, as if teasing the idea of whether to reveal a secret or not, before finally settling on his answer. “You might not believe me if I tell you.”

“I will. I know that fairies are real.” The man twists around to look at her after that, throwing her a look of feigned shock.

“You’re kidding!”

“I’m not! They live here.” She laughs playfully. “Please, tell me. Maybe I could borrow some so I don’t get lost again?”

She’s certainly adorable, he admits to himself, turning back to face the direction that they’re currently travelling in, lifting a hand high above his head. From out of his palm flies more of the dazzling little lights, and the girl tailing him jumps excitedly at the sight. He shrugs casually. “I guess it just comes from me.”

But the child is awed. “It’s _magic._ ” she whispers gently, reaching out to touch the sparkling drops, watching them fade as they delicately hit the ground. The man in front stops walking soon after, and it’s only once she looks up and tears her eyes away from the ‘magic’ that she realises it’s no longer needed. The moon is bright overhead, and the field stretched out before them is flat, aside from the little house just down the hill, where her family will surely be waiting. They’ve finally exited the forest.

“Now,” her taller friend begins, squatting down to look her in the eye, still smiling as he watches her. “You’ve gotta make sure you don’t wander too far into the forest from now on. Your family will get scared and will have to get the whole town to look for you!” She giggles, and eventually nods when she realises the sincerity of his words.

“I’ll be good and stay close to the pond. And I won’t stay out until dark.”

“Smart choice!” He laughs a little, then leaves her with one last flurry of light that erupts from his palms, the glow of it illuminating his face as he stands at full height once again. “Remember to be considerate of others, okay? Your family must love you lots, and you shouldn’t make them worry.” The little girl nods again, and throwing him one last smile, makes her way down the hill, excited to tell her parents just what sorts of magic she’d seen in the forest today.

Baekhyun is still grinning from ear to ear as he watches her enter the house, even as the light around him begins to fade, and he slowly backs away into the shelter of the woodland once more.

  
##

  
A child is fearful.

They’re not welcome here any more. At one time, they considered the house as their home, but their parents have changed and consequently, so has that. They’re scared - no, _terrified_ , about what will happen to them next. All they know is that they’ll have to get out of there as soon as possible.

Their bags are packed and lay leaning against the wall beside the door of the bedroom, where they’ve currently barricaded themself in. Their parents are _fuming_ outside - it’s evident from the occasional hammering of fists against the locked door, the hissing words of disgust and contempt. It’s the most frightened they’ve ever been, but the child has never been so sure of a decision in their whole life.

The window is wide open, and the only means of leaving the house at this point. There’s a small canopy over the front door just below it, which would provide a sufficient stepping stone to the ground that would hopefully allow them to escape unscathed, though leaving with injuries still wouldn’t be as bad as suffering in that toxic home for any longer. The one thing that does concern them, however, is the sight of a shadowy figure on the opposite side of the street, passing by their house and in a position to undoubtedly see just what was about to unfold.

But there’s no time to waste. The banging at the door grows more frantic, and the child can hear the dresser blocking most of it creak with the force being pushed back against it from the other side. Violently yanking their backpack from the floor and hastily slinging it over both shoulders, they scramble up onto the windowsill, balancing themself with both hands splayed either side of the window frame. They swing a leg over, stretching down to feel their way to the canopy, praying that it’s strong enough to support their weight. The deafening sound of splintering wood behind them makes them move quicker, and they dare to jump down, hoping they don’t slip or completely miss.

Their feet hit the concrete canopy, and relief washes through them at the small victory, but only momentarily. Soon they come back to their senses, and with only the slightest hesitation, they jump down onto the grass below, wincing as they fall face first into the dirt.

They’re otherwise fine, and quickly stand to brush some strands of grass away from their clothes. They dare to take one last look back at the building they once belonged to, only to freeze in fear as they locked eyes with their mother, staring through the kitchen window. Only their father had been upstairs, prying the door open and yelling abuse into the room. Their mother gave a yell, beckoning the other parent downstairs, but the child wasted no more time as they began to sprint down the street, horrified.

It didn’t take long for father to catch up, hot on their trail, thundering down the street with a look so enraged they couldn’t bear to think of what would happen if they were caught. Panting heavily, they turn a corner sharply, only to shriek with fear as they catch sight of their father rounding the corner just meters behind them. All seems lost, and the child feels numbness creeping into their legs. _Maybe this is the end._

They stumble and fall to the ground, clutching their head between their hands, curling up tight and awaiting the sensation of violent hands that will surely be on them soon enough. But instead of punches, the child feels _tremors_. A deep rumbling from below stirs them, and a loud thud from behind them indicates that their father, incredibly close by now, has fallen over. An earthquake has never been so inconveniently timed.

They know that their father would value his own life more than chasing them, and deciding that for the moment they’re somewhat safe from _that_ threat, they dare to open their eyes and examine the neighbourhood, tremors still shaking the ground beneath them. It’s nothing too serious - the quakes are certainly not enough to knock down trees or even topple fences. They are, however, enough to keep both the youth and their parent on the ground, unable to stand.

But this doesn’t seem to be a problem for the man now standing between them.

They recognise it as the passer-by from earlier, who had obviously witnessed the chase. He had wide, intimidating eyes and dark eyebrows, his expression that of a frown as he glared at the other man, still hissing from his place on the ground. He’s soon turning away to face the child instead though, and immediately the emotion on his face transforms into one of concern and kindness, reaching a hand out to help them onto their feet.

“Sorry about this. It was all I could do to stop him chasing you.” They find themselves nodding, a little dazed at the implication that the stranger had _voluntarily caused this earthquake._ “Are you okay?”

The child, finally managing to grasp the outstretched hand and hauled themself up, gives an uncertain nod, eyeing the stranger carefully, but relieved he seemed to be on side all the same. “T-thank you.” They let out breathlessly, gazing down warily at their father as the tremors finally come to a halt.

“You fucking disgrace-” the said father hisses as he finally clambers up from the floor, a little unsteady on his feet. Before he can take a step further, the stranger steps between them fully now, holding up a hand in warning, the glare now back on his face.

“Back off.” Their mysterious protector announces in a low voice, the hand still at his side clenching into a fist. “I’ll knock you over again if you try to follow or find them.”

The father snorts loudly, unfazed by such a warning. “You fucking asshole. That’s _my_ daughter-” the child winces at the word, and slinks back further behind the man now guarding them, “- and she’s coming back home with me.”

“You’re wrong. They obviously don’t want to. Beat it.” The man warns him again, and this time the child notices his eye twitch. He’s growing impatient.

The father snarls again. “You don’t know _shit_. You’re just a random stranger to us. Now get the fuck out of-”

A rock flies past the child’s head, making them jump in shock as it lands square in the middle of their father’s forehead. The victim shrieks and clutches his face, and the kid’s saviour turns to look at them, crouching down to their level. There’s little emotion on his face, except for the warm sparkle in his eyes that lets them know his intention, though questionably violent, is merely to help.

“Let’s get you out of here.” The man murmurs, offering a hand out to them. It doesn’t take long for them to clutch it tight in their own small grip, nodding frantically and never once looking back to their father, still cradling his head in pain, as they make their way towards the city. “Do you have somewhere to go?”

“Y-yes.” They confirm, pointing to a large apartment building not too far away. “My friend lives there. He said he’d offer me a place to stay.” The man nods, and it doesn’t take the duo long to reach their destination.

Their hero also decides to assist them during the ascent up the winding staircase inside. Upon reaching the door, understanding that it’s finally time to depart from the man, the child can only think of one thing to do, and without further hesitation, runs into the stranger to give him a tight hug. “Thank you. I didn’t know what would happen if he took me back. You even... You can... With the earthquake, I mean...”

The man smiles briefly, patting the child on the back. “I only did what any decent person would do.” He hums softly, watching as the young child finally knocks at the door of their friend’s home. He wastes no more standing there, but calls out one last time to the youth now behind him:

“It took a lot of strength to escape from that situation, you know. Never forget just how strong you are.”

D.O doesn’t wait for the friend of the kid to catch sight of him before he begins descending the stairs. The police station is nearby, and he needs to report a heartless father.

  
##

  
A child is bleeding.

She grits her teeth at the pain from the wound along her cheek, fighting back the tears threatening to well in her eyes.

The land before her has been reduced to rubble, her family lost among the thousands of other people frantically fleeing the scene as troops begin to pour into what is left of the town. She’s shoved aside by groups of other frightened survivors, and as more gunshots begin to sound a short distance off, she can understand why they’re so eager to move out. She joins the crowd, but just seconds later a large man surges past her and knocks her completely off of her feet.

She gasps as she skids painfully across pointed rocks and debris from bombed houses, undoubtedly gaining plenty more wounds in the process across her torso, legs and arms. Stampedes of civilians are approaching now, and she scrambles hastily to her feet again to avoid being trampled on. But she cries out as she tries to run with them - a sharp pain shoots up her leg, and it’s only in that moment she realises just how severe her injuries are. Her left shin is bright with red and she can’t quite see where the blood is coming from, but the sight alone is enough to make her collapse again. In one last attempt to move away from the violent bustle of horrified people, she slides along the ground using the rest of the strength left in her arms, before slumping against the trunk of a tree, clutching her other leg to distract her from both the pain and indisputable fear that crawls up her skin as she realises she cannot escape in this condition.

The child calls out meekly for help, but people are selfish. The desire to live overpowers all else, and all the young girl can do is watch in horror as people she used to call her neighbours sprint out of the ruins of the village. She prays her family are among them, safely out of the danger zone, because if she is to die today, she at least wants her brothers and sisters to live on for her sake.

There’s a hold up within the largest crowd of people still in the town, however, and the girl eventually realises it’s because of one individual. He must have a death wish, because he’s pushing _against_ the force of the rest of them, brushing men and women alike easily aside to clear the way for him to actually enter the town. The girl lifts her head to catch sight of the man, and in that same moment he is free of the crowd, dark eyes filled with concern meeting her own. He begins running towards her, and the child can feel her heart flutter with relief. Maybe there’s still a chance to live.

She expects to be picked up immediately, and winces in preparation for the pain she anticipates. Instead, she feels a palm against her leg, his touch light and careful, clearly not fazed about the blood still drying along her shin. It’s a strange sensation, and she looks up to the man who seems to be oddly calm with his eyes closed, considering the situation.

But then the girl can hear guns again, much closer than before, and she panics as the man is still not picking her up or running away. “Please, what are you _doing?!_ We need to leave!”

The man’s eyes open suddenly, and he looks at her with a gentle kindness she has never seen before. His hand reaches out to grab her own, and he hoists her up onto her feet unexpectedly. She yelps, and waits for the pain to settle in her leg again at the sudden pressure on it, only to find there is none, and the man is tugging at her hand to make her run. It doesn’t take much to make her comply.

Now they’re running, hand in hand, catching up with the crowd as they exit the town. The stranger is gently pulling her forward, beckoning her to keep up the pace, but never drags her to make her run faster than she can manage. By now, they seem relatively safer, sheltered within the rest of the crowd, at least 200 metres or so away from the town’s entrance. The girl takes the chance to scan the area, eyes focusing on finding any familiar faces that she can.

Eventually the sight of her mother graces her field of vision, and she lets out a relieved sob as she wriggles free of the man’s grip to meet her. She pauses for a moment to look at her aid, smiling up at him as best she can. “Thank you for saving me. Thank you.”

The man smiles back, the same warmth on his face as before, and brushes a hand along her cheek. “I would have picked you up, or escorted you to your mother, but there are more people for me to help. Please just remember that things will get better one day - wait and see.”

He disappears into the crowd then, and the girl is brought back to the thought of her mother nearby, quickly running to her and leaping in her arms as they continue down the busy path. As her mother litters her face with relieved kisses, the child lifts her fingers to her cheek, her suspicions of the man confirmed when she finds no cut there. That stranger _healed her._

He wants to turn back for just a moment to make sure the girl reached her mother safely, but Lay has a dire job to do. He’ll make sure every civilian escapes this conflict unharmed, even if it’s the last thing he does.

##

A child is enraged.

He screams. Screams at the sky, the birds, anything caught in his field of vision. Fists clenched, he slams them into the ground, only to yelp out in pain shortly afterwards. All that he accomplishes in doing this is hurting himself - the anger is still there, bubbling away inside, and he can’t seem to shake the feeling.

He attempts to rub his bruised hands together to reduce the throbbing sensation in them and take his mind off of the betrayal and hurt that he’s feeling. It doesn’t help, and he just wants to scream again, but there are people nearby watching him now, staring as he makes a scene in public. He hates the way they look at him, can feel his skin prickle at the thought of their silent judging, and runs away instead.

The boy stumbles across a familiar but long abandoned building in the centre of the town. The elder folks had often told him stories about it - ‘ _the old clock tower_ ’ - and how it was once the centrepiece of the village. Clearly it was nothing more than a nuisance to them now, having no real purpose other than to store town decorations and equipment in need of repair. But it would be the perfect place to hide as he cooled down.

It was odd, he realised, that the lock barring the door to the staircase within the building, was warm in his hand, and even more so when the door gave way beneath his touch without unlocking it. Someone must have forgotten to lock back up after they’d been here last, he figured, and began the ascent to the very top of the tower.

Birds clear from the rafters as the child storming up the stairs disturbs the silence that had previously filled the building, panting heavily once he reaches the top. There seems to be a few more doorways up here, leading to smaller areas he wasn’t quite sure of whereabouts they led to, but he was drawn towards the balcony in front of him. The sky is bright, but not because of the sun, despite the light filtering into the ruins of the tower. It’s the colour of a storm, and the humid air that hangs heavy over the town confirms it. But he doesn’t care - all he can see is red. His heart hammers painfully in his chest, and he sucks in a deep breath as he stands on the balcony.

Then, he screams out with all the energy he has left, and at that very same moment, the intimidating crash of thunder and lightning bores down over the landscape in front of him, illuminating the outline of houses and deafening the people below. He jumps, startled, but he can’t help the unmistakable feeling of _powe_ r that surges through him afterwards. Did _he_ do that?

He screams out again, and once more thunder and lightning make their presence known as he does. He stares down at his hands in his disbelief, his anger and pent up aggression now effectively released, but his head soon snaps around as he hears the sound of gentle footsteps behind him once the sound of the storm fades from his ears.

Thunder rumbles in the background again, but this time the child has not screamed alongside it. He’s far too focused on the man now staring back at him to notice, raising an eyebrow at the unexpected, friendly smile gracing his lips. The boy is no longer angry, just puzzled, and as if hearing his thoughts, the stranger snaps his fingers, evoking more lightning to strike down from the heavens. _He_ was the one doing this.

Running a hand through unkempt hair, the man looks down at his feet for a moment, kicking absently at the dusty stone floor. “Impressive, right?” he hums quietly, before looking across at the kid once again, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“You’re allowed to be angry sometimes. Remember that, right?”

And without further warning, before the boy can nod in understanding, lighting again fills the room with a brilliant glow, giving Chen just enough time to depart whilst the child stands frozen in disbelief.

##

  
A child has lost all hope.

She’s sitting alone outside the hospital one day in July, silent tears falling from her eyes as she softly rocks herself back and forth on the pavement, knees up to her chest. Until now, the young girl had always considered herself to be incredibly lucky in life - she had a family who cared deeply for her, a wonderful home that bordered a vast lake to which she could always play beside when the the high temperatures became too unbearable (which it often did), and plenty of friends in the neighbourhood to keep her company, both in school and after.

Life was generally wonderful. At least it _was_ , up until the moment her father was told he was currently losing his battle against a severe disease only just discovered in his system. To say she was heartbroken was an incredible understatement.

The doctor was checking on him now as they normally did, her mother had said. Her father had been bedridden for days now, and the last time she’d dared to lay eyes on him her heart ached at the sight of his rapidly thinning frame, pale skin, and drooping eyes. It was what had caused her to tear up, break down, run out of the hospital. She loved her father and wanted to see him in his time of need, but she wasn’t sure if she could bear it, now she knew what was soon to come.

She could do nothing but believe it was inevitable now. Her mother and the doctors both held faith, told her that " _miracles can happen. God wants you to have trust in him, even in this difficult time,_ ” and there was still a slim chance for him to pull through. But how could he? Father was weak and exhausted, and had never been very physically strong. Even if a strong mind contributed to whether or not he succumbed to the illness in the end, it had progressed so far without detection and treatment it seemed impossible to win such a fight.

It was safe to say the girl was faithless now, any hope she once held for her father’s recovering long gone and replaced instead with an uncontrollable _emptiness_ in her heart and mind.

Her head sinks to her knees, now pressed tight against her chest, her feet still ever so gently rocking her in a pathetic attempt to soothe her own pained thoughts. Someone would be out to collect her soon, take her home and remedy her in a way that made her feel guilty more than comforted - it wasn’t _her_ that needed the support most.

The air has grown colder than it was when she first stepped out - an odd revelation, considering the typical summer heat that engulfed the country just minutes earlier. But she can feel the change, feel the heat from her body fade ever so slowly, and almost contemplates rejoining the other visitors in the hospital waiting room, before mentally shaking her head that she can’t bear to spend any more time in there.

Instead, she finally finds strength to stand, squinting against the brightness of the sky as her eyes adjust again. To her shock, the area is now almost deserted, and the sky, though still bright, is no longer blue. It’s grey, and the thought of rain at this time makes the girl feel even more miserable.

“There is no God.” she whispers, but there’s no moisture left in her eyes to cry about it. She continues to stare up instead, eyes dull and emotionless, her shoulders sagging with fatigue. It’s only when a soft voice hits her ears that she moves, her head slowly rolling to the left to view the source.

“How do you know?”

Seemingly out of nowhere, a blonde man is now staring at her, his eyes wide and bright, but worried all the same. She’s a little concerned that he’s standing there beside her, and has enough sense left to take a cautious step back. Her eyes blink sleepily, and she drags a hand across her cheek in an attempt to remove moisture from it that hasn’t yet dried since she’d wept. The man doesn’t speak, as if anticipating an answer from her first, but his expression drops to one similar to her own.

“Because good people suffer, and nothing else can help them, except for a God.” She finally mumbles. “And God isn’t doing anything.”

The man listens carefully, nodding as she speaks, but winces when she finally realises just how _cold_ it’s become, letting out a shiver. What kind of weather was this, when they were still experiencing the middle of summer?

“Perhaps God wants to help.” The stranger suggests, closing his eyes thoughtfully. “But maybe it’s hard. There are lots of people to help on Earth, aren’t there? Some people get to see miracles, but maybe one god, or even more, still aren’t enough to help everyone in time.”

There was that word again. Miracles. She was growing to detest it, because miracles were not real. Life was cruel and unpredictable, and if there was a time when something good happened that was unexpected, than it was just by chance and nothing more.

“What do you know?” She mutters, but the words lack venom - she doesn’t possess the energy to be snappy or angry. “I used to think life was good, but really, you only ever get lucky now and then. There are no such things as miracles.”

The man hums quietly. “Perhaps you’re right. Life can be awful. Some people probably don’t get to experience much happiness... But you know what?” He pauses again, though this time his eyes focus on the girl beside him, smiling gently at her as she turns to look back at him. The weather is bitterly cold by now, but watching his caring gaze makes her feel warm. The child shakes her head.

“Peculiar but amazing things can happen. And Earth really is a wonderful place.” She wonders how he can say this, when there’s surely nothing he can compare living on Earth to, but remains silent. The stranger is staring down at his own hand now, rubbing his index finger against his thumb, as if thinking on what to say next.

“It never hurts to hope.”

Silence engulfs them for a moment, and the girl digests those words in this time, only to stop as something bright and delicate floats past her face. She blinks once, twice, her mouth falling open as she registers the snow falling over the street in front of her, the cars around her, and the man beside her. She stares because it’s _July_. Snow is falling in the middle of summer, and all her new companion does is sigh in content.

“It’s... It’s snowing?” She ponders aloud, though her voice comes out in a whisper, just loud enough for the man to hear. He laughs softly in response, but is moving quickly to remove the jacket from over his shoulders and place it instead over the young girl’s. She eyes him carefully as he does, more shocked because he _isn’t_ , and almost manages to smile as a snowflake lands perfectly at the tip of his nose.

“...You did this.” She realises, her eyes never leaving him as he stands to his feet, seemingly unaffected by the cold that is becoming more and more evident to her by the second. He continues smiling kindly at her.

“Maybe. Or maybe it _is_ a miracle.”

He turns to leave, and as she’s about to call out to stop him from walking any further, a woman rushes out of the hospital to grab her firmly by the arm. The girl jolts to look at her, recognises her mother, tears in her eyes and an expression of awe across her face as she suddenly takes in the sight of the snow outside, before looking back down at her daughter.

“He’s fighting back. They said his chances of survival have improved since his last check up. Darling, he’s _winning_. Maybe one day, we can all go home. Isn’t that incredible?”

But the girl cannot find the words to respond. For the second time, she’s left speechless - in a positive way - and can’t do anything else but watch the snow collect on the concrete below, slowly covering the ground in a beautiful sheet of white. The stranger is nowhere to be seen now, though his words are still playing over in her head.

_Maybe it is a miracle._

Xiumin watches her from afar, settled on a bench nearby, that same warm smile gracing his lips as he watches her embrace her mother tight as snow continues falling around them.

  
##

  
A child is cornered.

She’s panicking, cornered in an alley as people she once thought of as friends chase her through the city. They’re loud as their feet pound across the pavement nearby, and she can feel her heart race erratically in her chest as they draw closer.

She holds her breath, shaking behind her hiding place - a couple of boxes stacked up against some neglected trash bags - hoping that it covers the entirety of her cowering form. The footsteps stop, and the girl tenses up completely, willing herself to stop shivering in fear.

Silence ensues, but the child dares not move from her place. _They could still be there_.

There’s a cramp in her foot by now, but she’s frozen. She can still hear distant voices on the other side of the alley, picking up certain phrases like ‘... _just here_ ,’ and ‘... _that way_?’ now and then. Evidently they haven’t given up on finding her just yet, but the strain of holding herself up in her current squat position is proving too strenuous for her legs, and she collapses sideways into the boxes with a small yelp.

She’s met with five pairs of eyes on here, and the fear that had been coiled in the pit of her stomach trickles down her limbs and up her neck as they smile sickeningly at her with a false kindness. She cowers backwards until her back hits the wall of the alleyway, eyes wide in terror as the bullies slowly approach.

The insults have already started, the onslaught of cruel names and hurtful words already too much for her to bear. She holds her head in her palms, shutting her eyes tight, praying that this is nothing more than a nightmare.

They’re just a few metres away from her when a loud sound disrupts their aggressive jeers. A flash behind her closed eyelids makes the girl pause with bewilderment, and she can hear some of the kids swear or gasp in shock.

She dares to open her eyes, squinting against brightness of the clouds now that her eyes have since adjusted to the dark. She finds herself staring across at a pair of long legs from her huddled position on the floor. They’re much taller than those of the other children chasing her, and she realises they belong to an unfamiliar man standing between her and the group, now left speechless.

The man turns his head to look down at her, and throws a brief smile her way before he turns back around again to group.

“Why are you behaving like animals? Why were you hunting down this young lady?”

The girl tenses up again as she anticipates their answer - it sounds as though the man is waiting to hear their reasoning behind the chase before picking a side to defend.

One of the boys begins to splutter. “She- She’s not like us. She’s weird and has no friends. We just wanted her to stop acting like an arrogant... Y’know. She thinks she’s really great, but she’s not. I mean-”

“-You sound like the arrogant ones to me.” The stranger cuts him off in an instant, his voice cool, but with a sharp edge to it. He takes a step closer to the circle, and each of them takes a step back in response. The quivering child can’t see his face now, but watches as his head moves to scan the kids one by one with his gaze.

“You’re _children_. You shouldn’t be threatening other kids. I hope you realise what this makes you.” He points an accusing finger at them collectively. “You’re bullies. And bullies never get far in the real world. Grow up and stop harassing this young lady, and anyone else you’ve been pestering, or you’ll have to deal with me and the _police_.” He pauses to stare them down again. By now the girl can see that they’re terrified, backing away little by little at his words, but also because of the fact that he had just _appeared_ in the spot he was currently standing, seemingly out of nowhere. He snaps his fingers, impatient.

“Got it?”

They nod hastily.

“Good. Now get out of here. I’m sure your parents are wondering where you are, and I’m even more certain they wouldn’t like to find out what their kids have been doing outside of school. Don’t _ever_ dare to stoop this low again.”

They don’t hesitate a minute longer before they’re gone, running off down the street from which they came. The man finally turns himself back to the girl now sitting up on the floor, offering her a hand.

She takes it, dusting off her dress as she stands on shaky feet. He’s kneeling beside her now, matching her height, and he reaches out to wipe some dirt away from her cheek. She flinches away for a moment, but remember what this peculiar man had just done for her, and relaxes into the warmth of his hand. “Are you okay, miss?” he asks warily, frowning a little as he examines her face. She nods slightly, wide eyes looking up to meet his own. They’re chocolate coloured, warm. She finds herself calming down from the previous events just by staring at them.

“Those kids were awful. If they bother you at all again, you’ve gotta let your parents or teacher know, okay? Please don’t ever suffer in silence.”

She nods again, still unable to formulate any words, and the man smiles once more. “Let’s get you home. Which way?”

The girl leads them both to her home just outside of the large city. Once they approach the front door, the stranger takes a step back, gazing thoughtfully at the girl. But before he can say anything, the girl opens her mouth to speak up for the first time.

“Thank you, mister. You saved me.”

He chuckles softly, winking light-heartedly. “You’re very welcome. I’ll be around the city for a while, so don’t be afraid of them again, okay? Nothing like that will be able to happen again.”

Kai watches as the little girl smiles and her face brightens up at that, and with one final wave goodbye, he’s suddenly gone, disappearing into the air like smoke, leaving the girl speechless once more.

  
##

  
There are children suffering.

It matters not where you live in the world, the young will always fall victim to one tragedy or another. Life on Earth is cruel and sometimes unforgiving.

But the suffering can never last.

Guardian figures stand high above the cruelty and despair, rise above the rest to protect the innocent. They act as the voice for those who are silenced, the ones forgotten and left behind in the turmoil and chaos created by their elders.  
  
The guardians understand this isn’t where they belong. Earth is not home. But to make Earth a true home for humans, they know their place is with them until things get better, the people are happy, and the prayers of the young are well and truly answered.


End file.
